When You Need a Friend
by Troublesome Dragon
Summary: America finds himself in a white room with some old acquaintances who know him way too well. Great Britain and England make appearances or is that chicken boo? Unfortunately, America can't even decide if he is dreaming or not. It's a pesky side effect of seeing things others don't. This is an accompaniment to Broken Glass of Empires.


**This is directly tied to Broken Glass of Empires, another fan fic. I suggest not reading this unless you have read that. This is based on an alternate history which in no way reflects any actual history. I had the strong urge to write Alfred with the Animaniacs, and so, I have to list it in the crossover section according to site rules. This, however, is simply a dream sequence which I almost never insert directly into my stories. **

* * *

When you need a friend

Alfred stood in a white room with no recollection of how he arrived there in the first place. At the moment, he toyed with the idea that he had mistakenly ended up here during a routine transport. (He often saw glimpses of other places between destinations, and this definitely reminded him of such places.) Now that he observed more closely, he did not see any defining lines that told him he was in a room at all. He walked, unable to fully relax in the endless space. Anything could come from anywhere, and the constant bright light strained his eyes.

"Boingi boingi boingi," Alfred heard some undisclosed voices shout in unison. He stopped trying to get anywhere, opting to remain still until he could identify the voices. This didn't last long as he had a distinct feeling that it was a bad idea to stay in one place for too long. He started pacing back and forth, falling into a tedious pattern he was all too familiar with. And yet, despite this persistence, America's constant vigil went unrewarded. The voices never addressed him directly and remained maddeningly familiar. Not that it mattered in the long run, he didn't feel overly concerned by their presence. They sounded almost childlike, and while experience had taught him it wasn't always the case, he usually chose to believe such things were harmless. Something different assaulted his ear drums this time, and it clicked.

"Romp, romp, romp, hey! Romp, romp, romp, hey!" The now identified Warner brothers and Warner sister shouted. This time he continued forward without knowing if he was going the right direction. He wasn't sure why he wanted to see them so badly. Great Britain hated the (dogs/cat/ monkey things?)- ahem- them. Actually, Arthur rarely admitted liking any of his cartoons. (The few his country produced were often canceled by the BBC after a year or so.) Still, there was something about them that America liked a lot. While Great Britain had found them rude and incorrigible, America usually found their shenanigans harmless and amusing to watch. They could do whatever they wanted, and while Alfred would certainly never get to act that way, they were appealing nonetheless, enough to go on for ten seasons or so.

"Helloo America," Dot whistled, reminding him of some of the more mature themes alluded to on the show. Alfred backed away a little, hoping not to get assaulted. His mild aversion to the act wasn't enough to deter her; she jumped into his arms as America stupidly caught her, planting a giant wet one on his lips. America blinked; it was weird getting kissed by a cartoon like a wet plunger sucking up his skin.

"Now, Dot, I'm sure America's busy doing whatever personified land . . . eh does," Yakko trailed off, scratching his head. Wakko panted, finally catching up to the other two and in a bit of a daze, he shrugged. America took the opportunity to put Dot down. Luckily, she didn't make a fuss and jumped down as soon as she was lowered. America smiled, trying his best to be patient. He was very aware how easily they could turn on him.

"What do you do?" Dot asked, automatically triggering Alfred's standard response to such a question. It was asked at least once a year if not more, particularly by those new in office, and he decided to stick with the simplest answer. The Animaniacs were styled after his earlier cartoons in which reality didn't exactly interfere with what went on, and due to this immeasurable power, it was best not to displease them.

"Well, I" he started to say, but the Warners interrupted as expected. They were odd creatures covered in black fur except for their peculiar white faces and beady black eyes. These eyes were currently trained on America as they started to crowd him, and Alfred was reminded that they had no sense of personal space.

"Do you eat a lot of cake?" Wakko asked, raising his hand. Despite their sometimes grating presence, they always did seem genuinely eager and excited. Alfred held his stomach and sighed- perfectly firm. He wished.

"Not really, I work," he said, attempting to give the simple one line explanation.

"Make lots of Mistakes?" Yakko, the would be ring leader asked, probably perfectly aware of the answer. America paused, wondering if he should bother answering seriously. He could be hallucinating for all he knew.

"Sometimes, but with the other countries I," America tried again, knowing the futility of the action, but his manners leaving him unable to simply ignore them.

"Do you cry at night?" Dot said as if it were casual conversation.

"I don't think that's really relevant-" he said as he couldn't really deny it with all the recent inner turmoil that he was experiencing lately. England in particular had a knack for triggering the waterworks.

"Or are you constantly in a fright?" Yakko asked, making America frown, something rarely seen. No one wanted him to be upset after all, and it was a useless emotion most of the time. He didn't like where this was going at all.

"That's complicated," he said, because he was afraid of very irrational things, or sometimes legitimate things most people couldn't see. Belarus had found this out the hard way when he freaked out during a routine mission because he thought something crawled up his leg. After his eventual betrayal, she still left spiders near him whenever she could get away with it.

"Oh, so that's the problem. Dot, show him your pet," Yakko said, and it was around this time America decided to change his favorite to Wakko. Dot like many of the girls he knew wore a flower in her hair, a little yellow one, and also like many of the girls he knew, she liked wearing dresses, but unlike many of the girls he knew, she had a giant green monster that lived in a tiny box. The Venus fly trap like thing roared, and America immediately clung to Yakko, bridal style.

"Crap," America said, cowering and shaking worse than usual. He still didn't know if this place was real or not; that said, he didn't really care for keeping up appearances any more. Whom were the Warner brothers going to tell?

"I think it was too soon. Cake?" Wakko offered, and yes, America was sure now Wakko was his favorite, but in order to accept the cake, he would have to make time to exercise. He didn't really want to work out while England was in the house as it would require leaving him unsupervised and even with supervision, the alternate Arthur was causing him quite a few headaches. So, he would skip the extra calories today.

"I don't want cake," he said, pouting without realizing it. He let go of Yakko who at the very least, did not make him part of a sight gag when he was freaking out.

"Oh come on, you're less cranky with cake," Wakko insisted, and Alfred noted that they were being uncharacteristically nice.

"Why are you trying to cheer me up anyway? Don't you normally try to drive people crazy?" he said, and they looked at each other before going, "Ooohhh riiighht, our Special Friends," Yakko wiggled his eyebrows and made air quotes at the special friends part.

"You're more of a "Hello Nurse,"" Dot said, batting her eyes. Alfred figured this was the case with her, considering their earlier interaction.

"Eating contest buddy," Wakko said, scarfing down a piece of cake. This seemed unlikely to America, but he kept quiet. What was the point of questioning illogical creatures whom he could only tell apart by their clothes and respective height difference?

"A psychiatric patient," Yakko said, conjuring glasses and a pipe from nowhere. After blowing a few bubbles from the pipe, Yakko started writing something in his notebook. Alfred peeked at the notes, mostly they were insignificant doodles. The words, paranoid and control freak, were tossed around however.

"We always show up when your feeling down," Wakko admitted before Yakko cut in.

"Weeelll, sometimes, Oswald the rabbit does, but you can only communicate so much in whistles and synchronized dance," And for a moment, Alfred did indeed see Oswald the rabbit pass by, waving to the beat of a jazz tune he heard the other day. Maybe, he wasn't actually as awake as he thought.

"Huh, you'd think I'd remember," he said as a dream with the Animaniacs would have definitely been noteworthy to him.

"You don't remember dreams silly. If you did, your brain would explode," Dot said, sucking in her breath until it inflated into an impossible size.

"Like this," Wakko handed him a lit piece of dynamite. It was too late to throw it. Of course, it blew up in his face, but it was surprisingly harmless. His skin did feel irritated, and his eyes definitely stung, but other than the black powder covering his face and clothes, there wasn't any evidence that any damage had been done.

"Ow," he said, and Yakko immediately conjured a vacuum cleaner with eyes which proceeded to wave at him.

"You'll be fine," he said as the vacuum cleaner took away the soot. He coughed, accidentally inhaling part of the residue which caused him to cough some more. They gave each other worried looks before Wakko snapped his fingers and took off his red hat digging around for something.

"Have a vitamin," Wakko said, still preoccupied looking for said vitamin.

"If you insist," he said, knowing that arguing did nothing. Wakko took out a giant A from his cap. Alfred took it, surprised by its heaviness; he'd expected it to be made out of Styrofoam.

"It's a giant A," he said, and they all gave each other knowing looks. Yakko leaned in close to him as he contemplated whether to try eating it or not.

"You really don't watch the show much do you?" Yakko whispered, covering his hand in a faux attempt at privacy. The other two had a hand over their ear to listen in and definitely heard what Yakko was saying.

"Thanks, I guess, but I'm fine," he said, putting the giant A down.

"You sure are," Dot said, fanning herself with a newly found fan.

"No, we're not confusing words with other words," he said, and as entertaining as it was to see other people fumble for words the Warner's wouldn't misinterpret, he wasn't in the mood play.

"Those aren't confusing words. Now, amused and bemused are confusing words," Yakko said, taking out a chalkboard and writing said words down.

" And don't get me started on your, you're and were, wear, and where," he said, quickly jotting down the rest of the words before Wakko rolled the chalkboard away.

"I meant let's not waste time misinterpreting words for your amusement,"America said, and their eyes grew huge and their lips quivered. Alfred blanched, did he accidentally make them upset?

"Oh, you wound me," Yakko said, draping his arm over his forehead.

"What happened to the little kid that would confuse England with Egg land, Eagle land, and Thailand?" Wakko said, and by this point, America could tell they were overreacting. He rolled his eyes accordingly. He grew up and said it right, that's what.

"That was an interesting weekend," Yakko said, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

"You didn't even exist then," America countered, and they seemed to sigh collectively. Yakko ran his fingers through his fur.

"Look, we're in your head. We use the material we have on hand," he said with a dismissive shrug.

"And whatever is in your stomach, mhhmm, half-digested surströmming on tunnbröd," Wakko said, displaying a half-chewed meal of preserved fish and bread. While the Nordics could cook well with what they had to work with, it was best to eat it quickly.

"Yuck," Dot said, sticking her tongue out. America had to agree, looking at the half-digested version was making his stomach churn. The red capped animaniac didn't seem to mind, spilling some on his sky blue shirt as he gobbled it up. Yakkko, a.k.a. the only one that wore pants, started the romp conga once more, and America, for once, wasn't amused.

"Can you be serious for a minute? " he asked which turned out to be the wrong thing to say. They collectively gasped. Yakko stepped forward, solemnly. They'd somehow switched to black attire.

"You want us to be serious?" Yakko asked, and by their dire response, America was starting to have second thoughts about the suggestion.

"Wait, that wouldn't actually kill you would it?" he asked, because he'd heard of stranger things killing supernatural beings. Then again, he was ninety nine percent sure he was dreaming at this point.

"No, but that's not our style," Yakko said, slicing the air with his hands in an outward motion. A chair appeared, suspiciously similar to his own recliner. He sat down, and Dot pulled the recliner to its lowest level.

"Listen, sweety, you have some daddy issues," she said, holding up her chin with both hands.

"Or mommy issues," Yakko said, and America ignored the comment. He was quite aware most of the world referred to them as female unless they'd met them personally.

"Maybe, it's both," Wakko said, stroking his chin. America decided that he didn't really want to discuss the fairly tangled relationship he had with Great Britain.

"No, you have the wrong idea. It's more of a work relationship," he said, and that's certainly what it had turned into.

"Until, mommy number two came into the picture," Yakko said, who unfortunately had access to everything America knew. In order to spare him some grief, he decided it was best to compromise.

"If you insist on going with the mommy and daddy terminology, can you at least refer to Great Britain and England as . . . daddy and daddy number two instead?" he said as it seemed less incorrect than calling Great Britain his mommy when he wasn't in any form. Alfred honestly did not know if Great Britain even considered him a brother anymore, for the most part he was either called America, boy or Alfred if he was lucky.

"Hhhmmm," they considered the idea a moment before addressing him.

"No, not as funny," They said simultaneously.

"Anyway, we understand you've been feeling conflicted. Wakko will give an abridged version to the audience," he said, completely catching America off guard.

"The what?" he asked. Or maybe he wasn't dreaming?

"Don't answer, he has enough to worry about . . . probably," Yakko said, looking at America suspiciously. What audience? It was probably best that he remained ignorant if there was since Alfred disliked being watched.

"I say we give him the benefit of the doubt on that one," Dot said and the Warner brothers agreed. There was a slight lull where they simply stared at one another before Yakko tapped his foot and a now visible watch appeared.

"Wakko, we don't have all night here," he said, and America knew he didn't. It wasn't enough that he'd slept late, but he'd likely feel drained from this elaborate dream sequence.

"Right. Oh, mommy, thank you for the new form of government, but I've already got one from other mommy, and it's been so long since I picked out my own toys that I don't know which one to choose," Wakko said, holding up a rubber ducky and a sail boat. Alfred didn't even want to know which toy was supposed to be what.

"Are you referring to my dilemma about whether or not to reform my government as me picking out a toy? That's not even close to the same," he said, crossing his arms, and again, he appeared to have agitated Yakko.

"Look audiences have short attention spans, you slip in some facts here and there, throw in an educational song once in a while, and bam, you're golden," he said, sporting a cheesy smile afterward with the rest of his siblings.

"Sometimes, you just have to revel in the audacity," Yakko said, and America wasn't quite sold on the idea. Although he appreciated clever jokes and anything remotely informative, he didn't really want to believe that all his people had short attention spans. As for reveling in anything, he found it hard to let loose.

"Revel," Wakko said as he shook his fist. Unfortunately, America had more pressing issues to deal with than learning how to enjoy himself. Sure, he could act like he was enjoying himself, but every cue he gave was very deliberate.

"No, I'm confused enough about what to do without you three getting involved," he said, knowing he did face a sort of dilemma at the moment. America couldn't deny that he would be just fine if England never got to go home. Arthur admitted he and Great Britain were the same person deep down, and this version served him much better in the long run.

"Where are you going to find a more brutal audience?" Yakko said, and they dared him to disagree. He could be honest with himself for once.

"Touche," he said, and Yakko cut in.

"Mustache," Yakko held the mustache to his face, reminding America that he should invite the Italys' over more often.

"Fine, Wakko, rephrase," Yakko said, finally giving in. Wakko took off his red hat and leaned back, shifting his weight to his right foot while draping his arm over his forehead.

"Oh, mommy, I want to send you home, but I like other mommy better," he said, sticking his tongue out as he talked. He stood straight and grinned by the end of scene. It wasn't that America particularly disliked Great Britain per say, but England was a lot less volatile and generally easier to live with. Now, if he could get him to have a firmer grasp on his world's politics, they wouldn't have as many problems.

"Longer," America said, thinking it didn't quite capture the complexity of the situation.

"And, about taking away my right to representation, I wasn't okay with it. I lied to you like the two face that I am," Wakko said, wringing his cap in his hands.

"Longer and hey," he said as it clicked that they'd technically insulted him. He didn't always hide his actual motivations.

"You going to deny it?" Yakko asked, and America could already tell that arguing about it would only grant him "special friend status."

"I guess I can't lie to myself," he said with a sigh. He kept up so many acts sometimes it was hard to identify what he was actually feeling. The last few times he cried had caught him by surprise; he hadn't expected to cry real tears.

" And you're drinking more than uncle Scotty so you know it's bad, love son whom you mistake for Canada when your drunk," Wakko said, taking a bow. Yakko clapped, and Dot appeared to have transcribed the whole thing in parchment.

"I think he'll like the letter. Don't you?" Dot said, and America slowly reached for the parchment. She was much too smart to fall for that and handed it off to Wakko who then handed it to Yakko before America could even attempt to take it from him.

"No, wait. We're not sending that. I don't think you can, actually," he said, unless he subconsciously did at some point or he was subject to cartoon logic.

"This is the sort of negative thinking that has kept you from making the flying car," Yakko said, wagging his finger at him. America wanted to hit his head against the wall (which didn't seem to exist here.) He never could please everybody.

"It's impractical and a lot less efficient than the electric cars we have now," he said, and he'd fought tooth and nail to make sure funding didn't stop, even when consumers showed a lack of interest in the idea. (The funding Great Britain later provided helped, the only condition being that the working models be distributed in England first. )

"But it would have been so cool," Wakko insisted, and Alfred wasn't sure if they would shut up about the subject on their own.

"I'll see what I can do. Where's the letter?" he said as they all smiled sheepishly at him. Dot had her hands behind her back while the other two shrugged

"We sent it," Dot said, and America lost all his remaining reservations. He shook them in an effort to find the letter. Oddly enough, they allowed him to. Perhaps, it was irrational trying to prevent humiliation and dire consequences in a dream, but the only thing he accomplished by doing this was increasing the amount of junk on the floor.

"He'll be here any second, give or take. Then again, we are in an endless white void," Yakko said, looking at his watch. America gave up, and sat down putting his arms around his knees.

"This isn't happening," he said, putting his head on his knee.

"Aw, I think he went into an emotional breakdown," Yakko said, poking him with a stick which wasn't really helping America's mood.

"Doh, we always do that to people," Dot said, frowning as she picked up some of her fallen things.

"This never would have happened if he ate the cake," Wakko said, hunching over as he crossed his arms.

"Let's not point fingers." Yakko said, putting his arms around both of his siblings and leaning in close to whisper to them. " We'll have to resort to using our secret weapon."

"Our cuteness?" Dot said, batting her eyes. Yakko shook his head.

"No, bigger," he said, extending a hand and moving it dramatically to the left.

"Our stomach?"Wakko said, eating a majority of the things left on the floor.

"Better than that," he said, stroking his chin.

"What?" They both asked. Yakko strode forward confidently.

"Follow my lead," he said, signaling them with his fingers. Alfred had watched the whole thing passively, mostly calculating the odds of this place being real versus his over active subconscious.

"You know what will cheer you up? A song," Yakko said, and the other two slapped their foreheads in realization.

"I'd rather wait for this to turn into a nightmare," he said, somewhat self-conscious. Last time he sang, Belarus had compared his voice to the sound of a half-strangled chicken.

"It's the one that mentions nations," Yakko said, attempting to make the offer more favorable with Jazz hands.

"Okay, but just this one song," America said, standing up. He waited for them to start, and he half expected a map to appear.

"Whatcha waiting for?" Wakko asked, and America could feel sweat slowly accumulating on his forehead.

"Me?" he said, forgetting half of the people he knew as stage fright kicked in.

"Yeah, you should know it," Dot said, pushing him onto a newly imagined stage, bloody perfect.

"I guess," he said with a sigh.

"Don't worry. No one will know if you screw up," Yakko said, patting his back and handing him a microphone.

"Except the internet," Wakko said to something he couldn't see.

"Wakko, no breaking the fourth wall," Yakko scolded his brother, but the actual context escaped America.

"What?" Alfred asked, fighting the inexplicable urge he had to run into the white expanse behind him.

"Sing already, and feel free to improvise" Dot said, and the spotlight came on.

"It's a very short song," Wakko assured him.

"Oh Canada, the nations of panama secretly run by Brazil," he said, feeling a little better now that he had started.

"Shush," They said, but he assumed they were simply heckling him.

"The empire of Prussia smaller than Russia can still make you feel very ill," America said as he resisted the urge to check if there was a map behind him for some reason.

"And then there is the kingdom of Spain with all of his southern terrain," he said, and once again, the animaniacs interrupted.

"Hellloo Texas," they said, making America flush and turn around to check, just in case. When they snickered, he growled into the microphone.

"Shut up," he said, making them hush.

"Don't stop now," Dot encouraged him, enlarging her eyes a second time.

"Which is nothing compared to all Britain's gained," America said as they rolled their eyes, and Wakko held up a mamma's boy sign.

"Like most of the middle east, and for a while Turkey and Greece which are now in one piece," he continued, and he waited for some snide comment. Nothing.

"As you can imagine, the fighting has yet to cease," he said as Wakko proceeded to do a drum solo. He waited until he finished before carrying on.

"Let's not forget China's new Dynasty," he said as they rang a giant gong.

"And its Asian Confederacy," America said, and this time, they plucked strings from a shamisen. He wondered why he was even trying to rhyme if they weren't going to follow the melody.

These days, they mostly get along," America said as they sat and semi-rolled around.

"Oh, by the way, the Republic of China is gone," he thought absently. He hadn't seen her since China took her back.

"Aww, Taiwan" Dot whined while Wakko blew his nose. Yakko crossed his arms.

"There wasn't enough girls on this show as it is," he complained. America waited, eventually they settled down.

"Anyway, France is now free," he said. The animaniacs procured a few French flags and waved them about, followed by improbable confetti.

"Wee," they cheered.

"Along with Sweden and Italy," America said, and luckily he wasn't interrupted again. His palms were getting sweaty, and he might lose hold of the microphone.

"African nations ownership changes at the drop of a hat," he said, and at this point, the three raised their fists in the air and raged.

"Drat!" they shouted.

"Then, you have the Austrian Hungarian Empire which still all that," he said with a snap of his fingers.

"Well see how long they'll keep Prussia at bay,"America added idly. Prussia did plan to try again at some point, or so, he told him. Alfred hoped that he would end up being too lazy to actually implement his plan.

" Denmark and his subsidiary get along okay with Norway" Sadly, he was running out of recognized nations.

"Finally, there's the empire of Russia who's known for his sunflower walkways. As for all the would be nations in between, they could all be gone the next day," Alfred finished if only so the spotlight would go away.

"Yay?" they said, staring at him incredulously. He supposed that was a sloppy way to end the song. The spotlight was turned off and the stage simply disappeared.

"You're being a downer," Wakko said as Alfred looked away. He had trouble ignoring the bad things that happened to nations.

"You said I could improvise," he reminded them which of course they ignored.

"You're depressing pinky," Yakko said, pointing at the skinny white mouse on the floor who was crying into someone's hanky.

"Narf, narr, naaaa,wa," he babbled, and he felt something tug at his pant hem. He resisted the urge to squash it on the off chance it might crawl up his leg.

"Here is a workable strategy, with your expanded military power, embrace the rebellion and take control of England. It is the perfect time to take over the empire," Brain, the mouse with the enlarged head, suggested, but of course, the thought had crossed his mind years ago. It was a stray thought, likely from a handful of individuals in his land. Most of his people, however, considered themselves British subjects, and Great Britain had spent years reaffirming this belief in the people through propaganda and perks that came from dual citizen ship. Only recently, had he noticed an underlying discontent which stemmed from Great Britain taking away his representation in parliament.

"When did they even?" he asked, despite knowing there was no point.

"Never mind that, Great Britain's here," Yakko said, pointing to Boo the chicken. They must think he's dumb as bricks.

"But, that's a chicken," America stated firmly.

"Nonsense, he's wearing a suit," Yakko said as if that made a difference. To make matters worse, he believed the chicken was trying to hug him.

"A chicken in a suit would just be ridiculous," Wakko said, and the chicken blinked.

"Screw this," America said, taking off the chicken's suit. Boo simply looked at him for a moment and turned around.

"You wear a disguise to dress like the empire guys but you're not a nation you're a chicken boo," Someone sang from out of nowhere.

"But wait, he's really here," Yakko said as if the whole chicken incident didn't matter, or maybe, they weren't as intelligent as he gave them credit for.

"What the hell is going on here? I wake up and your dog-cat-monkey thing dragged me here," Great Britain shouted indignantly, or he assumed as much from the angry rant and constant frowning countenance.

"You see, Britain was it? We want you to be our "special friend"," Yakko said as they all surrounded Arthur like vultures. America's instincts kicked in, and he separated them from Arthur.

"No," he told them. This appeared to be the opposite reaction they expected as their ears drooped, and they clung to his suit as they sniffled. America didn't buy it for a moment and continued scowling. Of course, Great Britain fell for it.

"I suppose while I'm here. I might as well play along with your silly puppets,"Great Britain said because he never listened to a suggestion that wasn't his own. He also appeared to have trouble distinguishing between harmless and potentially harmful.

"You seriously do not understand what that means. Go home," he said, dragging him forward despite not knowing a way out.

" Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" Wakko asked Britain who did ponder the question. America chose to blame it on Wakko's British accent rather than admit that America's advice meant absolutely nothing to Britain.

"Kids these days," Yakko tsked, shaking his head.

"Wakko Yakko, stay out of this," he said, putting his hand on his hips.

"I don't know why you've been bloody distant lately," Great Britain complained, because he needed to bring up that issue now of all times. What did he expect? When he smiled, Arthur thought he was up to something. When he was angry, Arthur no longer considered it healthy for him to express it. When he showed any amount of sadness, Arthur thought there must be something wrong with him. The only thing that wouldn't get him into much trouble with Arthur was a neutral mask.

"I think it started right around the time I let you trade with Spain because of food shortages," Britain said, bringing up (cough) an entirely different situation.

" Oh that, no, this is completely different," he said because that had more to do with preferring someone else's company.

" Wakko, bring in the other one," Yakko whispered, making America grow pale.

"The what?" he said as Britain pouted about being ignored, again.

"Wake up, I know we stayed up late, but please wake up, this is your subconscious speaking," he begged, figuring that's what he was in this situation.

"Oh that's not going to help. You are dead to the world my friend,"Yakko said, showing him a picture of him drooling on his pillow.

"Dammit," he said automatically, so much for early morning training. At this rate, England would be awake before he was.

"Alfred," Britain warned him. Right, no cursing, no drinking, nor doing anything that was remotely related to being an adult, except, you know, fighting his wars.

"Sorry, Great Britain sir,"he said anyway, because peace was always better in the long run. War caused more problems than it fixed.

"What in blazes? Oh, we have company. Hello, ehm, me," England said, offering his hand to the other one. Britain didn't take it. All the while, the animaniacs had been observing the spectacle and taking pictures.

"Geez, you can split the British tension with a knife," Yakko said, making the other two furrow their eyebrows or eye lids. (It was hard to tell sometimes.)

"I don't get it. What exactly makes it British tension?" Wakko said, scratching his forehead.

"It's extremely polite,"Yakko said, and indeed, the two were just staring at each other. Scratch that, Great Britain had taken hold of his shoulder.

"Then, wouldn't it be Canadian tension?" Dot asked as England took his hand. America didn't like where this was going either.

"Who do you think he got it from?" Yakko said as the two of them went ooohh. Meanwhile, America was being pulled as they named reasons why he should take their side. _I raised you. I'm helping you regain your identity. I'm the reason you still have a British accent. I'm the reason your only friend isn't a whale and alien in my universe. _They weren't all great reasons, but he felt torn all the same.

"Enough with the silly banter, I will not take this foolishness any longer," Great Britain said as he had apparently listened in on the animaniacs casual banter.

"Take away that imposter and take your cartoons back to their damn water tower," Great Britain demanded, and the animaniacs clung to him, somewhat boosting his confidence. They might only be pretending to be sad. They may have pizza waiting in the stupid water tower. They might even not care either way, but dammit, someone was depending on him.

" Actually, I don't think . . ."he started to say, but Great Britain cut him off.

"For the love of Elizabeth, just say what you mean for once in your life," he hissed, hurting America's resolve. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to say anything.

"I," he started to say, and England almost stepped in, not realizing he was essentially doing the same thing as Great Britain and was about to cut him off.

"What you think he can't talk? You think he's some sort of mute mime here to entertain you?" Pesto came out of nowhere and started pointing his feathers accusingly at Britain, and for whatever reason, Britain actually seemed intimidated. He blamed his brain.

"No, I just mean that he doesn't really tell me what he needs anymore. It's a miracle to get him to say anything at all" Great Britain said, revealing a few of his misgivings. America was about to comment, but now, even Pesto was cutting him off.

" Oh, I see he's some sort of ventriloquist dummy that needs to speak when you tell it too," The pigeon proclaimed, gesturing with his wings as he hovered right in front of Britain's face. Judging by his comments, Pesto might be plugged into his more agitated thoughts.

"You don't seem to understand. He used to be such a happy child . . . Oh may the faeries help me. I'm talking to a pigeon," he said, putting a hand over his eyes as it finally dawned on Arthur how insane that was. England snickered until the bird took action.

"That's it, this red coat is going down," Pesto said, pecking at Britain who did his best to shield his eyes. England scooted closer to him so there was something between him and the pigeon. Alfred kinda of liked being relied on all the same.

" Ouch, I didn't know a pigeon could do that to a country," Wakko said as Britain started to get scratched up and procure questionable stains on his jacket.

"That statue in the park disagrees," Yakko said. America looked around but no statue appeared because of Yakko's non sequitur.

" Quit yapping already, some of us are trying to sleep," Slappy yelled and all the animaniacs put a finger over their mouth to humor her.

" Is that a bunch of personified nations yakking outside Slappy?" Skippy asked, stifling a yawn as he peeked out the window. America waved and Skippy waved back.

"Never mind that Skippy, tomorrow he'll go back to dreaming about bunnies and airplanes," Slappy said, taking her grand kid and shutting the windows.

"Goodnight Slappy," he said, and to his surprise, she reopened the window.

"Oy, shut up Alfred, I'm trying to sleep," she complained before slamming the window shut.

"Something tells me, I'm not actually here," America finally decided. The animaniacs looked up at him amazed.

"They didn't give you a clue?" Yakko said, pointing to the tree which somehow had yet to vanish. (Probably because he was still thinking about it.)

"I take it you won't let me go home yet," England said, having watched the whole procession. America must be having some guilt over prolonging his visit.

"It's not that I don't want you to be happy," he said, trying his best to think of a proper explanation for his current attachment to the man.

"He just comes from a clingy family," Yakko said, and considering who he was talking to, England did very much have a problem with that statement. Before an angry rant could start, America interrupted.

" Why is he here anyway?" America asked because all the Arthurs in his head were interfering with his sleep if that made any sense

"Wakko abridge it," Yakko commanded. Wakko cleared his throat.

"I'm going to make a stupid wish that will effect the entire world, tra-la-la," Wakko said, before skipping around England who was steadily growing more red.

"Huh," America said; he really should expect that sort of thing by now.

"I guess that it might look like I'm the same as him but," America said, and England, at least, had something useful to add when he interrupted someone.

"You really need the help," England said.

"Yeah," America said. The Warners waited quietly during the whole thing as Great Britain generally voiced his disapproval in inaudible mutters.

"Isn't that touching?" Dot said which led to Wakko burping a bubble.

"It makes me all bubbly inside. Wait. That's the surströmming," Wakko said, burping a few more bubbles into existence.

"And with that, It's time to spin the wheel of morality," Yakko said, and it was indeed there. England and Britain gawked as they weren't used to them defying physics yet.

"Wheel of morality, turn, turn, turn, tell us the lesson we should learn," Yakko said as the wheel spun, eventually landing on number 3.

"If at first you don't succeed, blame your parents," Yakko said, leading to America almost laughing out loud, almost. Both England and Britain had a problem with that particular statement, but only one acted on the impulse.

"It's that sort of stupid thing that makes me glad we're canceling you," Britain said which appeared to have upset them again. America, once again, felt the strong urge to defend them.

"Calm down, it's just a cartoon, and I have something to tell you that will clear this whole thing up," America said, reaching a moment of clarity. He could tell he was waking up soon by the increased brightness.

" I honestly don't need you. For some reason, you don't realize it yet. At some point, instead of me relying on you, you started relying on me," he said, continuing quickly before Britain could get a word in.

" And it may have been England's intent to be needed once more, but I'm the one who wished him here, because I really did need someone to hold my hand this time," he said because the uprising had taken him by surprise, subjecting him to more turmoil than he'd felt in decades. Having someone understand and listen to him had helped him considerably, he only hoped that the eventual resolution wouldn't make it worthless.

"I can't say it out loud, but I'm tired of being the adult here. I'm the one paying for your mistakes, I'm the one protecting you, and yet, I'm the one you don't acknowledge as worthy," he said, taking a deep breath. The Warner brothers and sister clapped.

"I just wanted to relax a little, before I woke up and had to do the same thing over again but I can't, and it's your fault. It would have been nice for us to have a pleasant conversation for once, but you can't seem to hold it together long enough to give me that much, you insufferable prat. Now, if you excuse me, I think I'll wake up and watch some cartoons, " America said, and the last thing he remembered was Great Britain's fist heading his direction. America stared at the ceiling, judging the time outside by the light of the sun before checking the alarm clock, Six a.m. like clockwork. He rose and prepared for another day, before getting his laptop and placing a disk inside. _It's time for Animaniacs, and we're crazy to the max . . . _


End file.
